（HIATUS）A Champion's Path［Pokémon Fire Red & Leaf Green］
by Uninspired Heap
Summary: Kanto is at its lowest. Even ten years into the aftermath of the great war, law enforcement is spread thin, and once-proud cities are reduced to cesspools of crime and corruption. An arduous path lies ahead for three aspiring Pallet trainers, as they are pitted against forces beyond their wildest dreams. Three destinies cross here, and they all forge their own path to the top.
1. Chapter 1

**S** treaks of lightning lacerated the skies of Viridian City, and salted the earth with a sea of flames. Gales fanned the inferno in the face of the booming downpour that had enveloped the coastline in a flash flood. Entire ecosystems were drowning in the howling tempest, and temperatures fluctuated wildly, setting on centigrade spikes that dwarfed Mount Silver as they moved from freezing point to heat-wave territory and everywhere in between. Route 1 saw the face of Armageddon, carved out by the divine wrath of wicked black clouds bubbling and bleeding sparks into the earth. It was completely unprecedented.

A lone chopper whipped against the cyclonic winds, tilting dangerously. The doors opened, and a blonde reporter surveyed the hellscape beneath her, signalling her cameraman by hand to start rolling in thirty seconds.

"My god…" she gasped. "This… what _is_ this?"

"Hell on earth, Gabby," He deadpanned while adjusting the camera lens. "Take it in. We're wired to National and rolling in twenty. Don't fall out, though, because I'm not coming to get you."

Gabby took a deep breath. "Yeah… sure, asshat."

She swallowed to moisten her parched throat before burying a shiver. This storm was unlike anything she had seen in her eight years of disaster reporting. The raw carnage it unleashed even on the pokemon most adept at survival was morbid. One could see bodies washed away in rapids. Dead or alive, human or pokemon, checking them was signing your own death warrant.

"Gabby! Get ready, we're rolling in three, two, one…!"

Televisions all over the region now viewing Kanto News would show viewers the hellscape outside Viridian. The camera rolled with a flash of lightning, followed by a sickening _CRACK_ to fade the reporter's voice in.

"Good evening, Kanto! This is Gabby Wilson, coming at you live overlooking the site of disaster from Viridian Airspace. You are now viewing live footage of day three of this mysterious weather phenomenon that decimated Fuchsia coastlines last week. Routes 1, 22 and 17 have officially been branded ground zero for the hurricane that Weather Institutes are now dubbing _Kingdra_. People in Viridian have been ordered to stay in their homes with windows shut and doors locked, but things are far worse than protocol presents. We're moving in for a closer look now!"

The cameraman nearly jumped out of his skin.

"What're you thinking?" he hollered after muting the audio. "Are you trying to get us killed?"

Gabby frowned and got out of the camera's way. "The people need a closer look, now quit arguing and adjust! We're going in!"

"You can't be serious!"

"Get us in closer, Captain! Over." She spoke into her walkie-talkie to the pilot.

 _"Copy that, ma'am,"_ he replied through static. _"Hold on tight. Over."_

"You crazy woman-"

Much to the cameraman's horror, their chopper swerved dangerously, riding the gales to decrease altitude. He cursed under his breath when the turbulence nearly capsized them, and howling winds drenched the interior in water both scalding and freezing. They narrowly avoided a twisting tendril of lightning, and the chopper blades whipped valiantly against relentless rain.

The copter finally stabilised, and Gabby ordered audio re-link before stepping into the spotlight visibly drenched. She surveyed the sight below, taking in the pandemonium brought on by nature.

"As you can see, the devastation runs deep, and while sources confirm that aid from both Unova and Sinnoh has arrived through their embassies, with Kalos on the trail, they're still ninety miles off. Viridian will be forced to hold out until… wait a moment…" She was a professional, but the sight she saw would have baffled anyone into a stammer. "It… it looks like a person! Out in this storm!"

The cameraman, while still fuming, took the cue to focus the lens and zoom in on the scene anyway. With angular perfection through the tempest's deluge, he captured what looked like the back of a young man in a cap and red jacket.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it looks like we have a trainer out here; timed 17:43. Identity unknown. Zooming in for a closer look…"

The camera zoomed in further on the boy – he couldn't have been more than seventeen years old – but alongside a poliwhirl, he braved elements even seasoned veterans trembled at the thought of. Fighting against the rain, he gave an inaudible order, and his poliwhirl sent streaking tendrils of energy that wove ice into helical bridges and formed a frigid platform with a set of bars to maneuver with. He leapt, latching on to the makeshift monkey bars before moving slowly towards a nearby tree.

The reporter and her cameraman were speechless, and the footage just continued in silence. Gabby then caught herself. "Um… uh, we're seeing… uhm… what looks like a rescue by a… a trainer."

Shifting focus, the cameraman zoomed in maximally to show the tree this boy was climbing towards. And there it was, trapped under a splintered fallen branch: a trembling ghost pokemon.

"Citizens of Kanto, there is a drifloon trapped in the tree! This is now a live rescue. We cannot get any closer, but prayer is still an option…" She covered her mic and muttered, "This is suicide…"

 **=====#=====**

 **T** he whirring chopper blades were drowned out by the hammering deluge, and a lone trainer vaulted from one icy bar to the next. He soldiered on unfazed through the deafening thunderclaps and visceral thunderbolts, dead set on his objective.

"Keep the ice strong, Poli! I'm almost there!" he hollered over the winds, glancing reassuringly towards the poor, trapped drifloon. "Don't worry! I'm coming to get you!"

With a final swing of his body that shattered the ice bar, the boy launched himself onto a tree branch. He hauled himself up, scraping moist splinters and mold onto his shirt, and balanced on the gale-rocked branch. His jacket fluttered and nearly knocked him over into the flood rapids below.

 _Yikes, that was almost a life insurance plan cashed out… wait, do I even have one of those?_ He took slow steps towards the terrified balloon pokemon. An imported pet from Sinnoh; it belonged to one of his neighbours from Pallet Town and had been swept away in a gust. The old lady had been worried sick since, so leave it to him to commit to this cause. _Nice going, Red._ He grit his teeth. _You are in for the lecture of a_ lifetime _when you get out of this._

"Hey, don't worry! Hold still, and I'll get you out of there!" Even at their proximity, he had to yell to be heard. "Ugh… hold on tight."

The drifloon radiated fear, but at the moment, it was smart enough to know its options were limited. It wrapped its free arm around Red's shoulder, and the boy threw caution to the wind to muster the strength to free the pokemon. He cried out as splinters dug into his gloved hands. _Horrible day to go fingerless._

Quipping mentally always kept him tuned out of the severity of his situations. He had a knack for getting into bad ones.

The wood creaked and moaned as its bark cracked under the pressure, but he managed to lift it. Red worked fast to sweep out the drifloon's crushed arm before promptly dropping the branch. The entire tree shook, but he held fast, cradling the balloon pokemon in his arms.

"You're gonna be okay… shh, it's over," he reassured it. "I'm taking you home."

Red turned to his poliwhirl in the water and gave it a thumbs-up; then he looked towards the sky, balancing himself against the chopper blades' whiplash. His confident smile made the perfect shot for the camera up close, which finally came into focus through the torrential downpour.

"So, think you can get us a stepladder?" he called over the wind. "Help would be _seriously_ nice right now!"

Then – _KRA-KA-KA-KOOM!_ A ferocious thunderbolt arced straight into the helicopter's tail rotor. It didn't stand a chance, swiveling dangerously off-course in a spinning descent.

 _Oh god…_ Red's eyes widened when he saw the vehicle crashing and burning, sending signals of panic through the desolate skies. Smoke billowed from the tail as the interior was rocked to its core. Live transmission worldwide cut off from the amperage overload frying circuits, with the last words from Gabby on air being _'We've been hit!'_

Red watched in horror as the chopper descended upon the tree he was squatted on. This was it. The end. He shut his eyes tight, waiting to pass with the drifloon tight and secure in his embrace.

The end did not come. The sickening creak of bending metal overshadowed the downpour. Mighty wingbeats flapped away the rain, twisting winds around the regal form of a gargantuan dragonoid with orange scales glistening in lightning flashes. It handled the chopper like a toy in its massive claws, and its tiny wings easily packed the power to save them all from certain doom. Red could only gawk.

"Southern perimeter secured. The bird's safe and sound; I'm having Dragonite shut their doors," a lean man in a red cape said into his communicator. He radiated power. The power to take command of the most powerful trainers in Kanto. The power to remain calm in this otherworldly cataclysm. The power and strength of character to control mighty beasts like the dragonite he was mounted on. It obeyed promptly, using its claws to force the chopper doors shut. This would prevent the pair inside from falling right out.

"Bruno, status report on the north, stat. Agatha and Lorelei have lockdown on their objective." After a radio pause, he nodded. "Copy that. Reconvene at Indigo Plateau once you ensure the safety of the injured. Disaster Control should take it from here on out."

The communications cut off, leaving a completely awestruck Red squatting on a tree in the rain. His grip on drifloon tightened to the point of making it squirm.

"Ohmygod…" He breathed, "You're- you're _Lance_! Like one of the Elite Four-"

"And you're out a little late on a school night." Lance scoffed as wrinkles formed on his forehead. "What gave you the bright idea to come out here in the middle of a _Cat. 5_?"

"W-Well…" He averted his gaze, and his voice lowered to a whisper. "I was just trying to help out."

"Where do you live?"

Red raised his voice over the rain. "Pallet Town, sir, Lance sir!"

"Really now?" He raised a brow, almost unable to swallow that such a brave – or foolish – young man was from a village outback. With a click of his tongue, the Dragon Master extended a hand. "Alright, then, hop on."

Dragonite hoisted the helicopter onto its shoulder, carrying it like a sack of potatoes. It found no strain in flapping those tiny wings to keep itself afloat. Bobbing in the air, it turned around and lowered itself to close distance between its master and the boy. Red could only stare open-mouthed at Lance's extended hand, unable to meet the man's intense gaze.

"We're taking you home."

With a gulp he took his hand and jumped on board with drifloon still holding on to his shoulder. Then, the world whizzed into a blur as they left even the sonic booms behind. Red could not see or hear much, but he could think, and one thought haunted him beyond the adrenaline rush.

 _I am_ so _grounded_ …

 **X===== FIN =====X**

 **A/N: Hello, and welcome to the first project on this page! I don't promise a lot of stories due to the volatility of my schedule, or a lot of updates because life can be a b!tch and I do this as a hobby for now, but I'm going to try and keep things as consistent as possible.**

 **The wallpaper is an amalgam of different images I found on google, and while there was transformative work put into the editing, I don't wanna be a bitch with fair use. The following document contains credit for all the images used in the creation of the fanfic cover.**

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 **[https:] / [docs ] . [google ] document / d / 17cjN n8fgI 4T7kt agFuze WXh 666 jzGJtv 3D yqgYqL ohk / e dit ? us p = sha r ing**

 **ADD A** DOT COM SLASH **AFTER** google **AND REMOVE ALL THE SPACES AND SQUARE BRACKETS IN THE LINK ^^**

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 **With that out of the way, I look forward to seeing the lot of you next time! Reviews are highly appreciated, as I'm always trying to get better at my craft, so drop a few if you're feeling generous. If you like this story, share it with your friends, and maybe consider giving it a follow. Hopefully, I won't disappoint you.**

 **Good day!**


	2. Chapter 2

**"** **Y** ou, my dear son, are _so grounded_!"

The words stung as much as they did when Red had initially thought of them on the way home. They had been the only things on his mind, but anticipation didn't make it any easier to take. He bit his lower lip, bracing for the second sting that very same minute.

"YEOWWW!" he cried out. "Come on! At least _act_ like you're being gentle, Blue!"

"I'm not." Blue frowned at the boy in the chair next to hers, shaking a splinter off her tweezers into the pile. "You know damn well what you did, and you got off easy with just cuts and splinters…"

"That he did…" his mother added with arms folded. The woman hadn't stopped pacing; it was how she came down from the highest points of stress. "Blue, dear, twist the next one out for me."

"Hey!" Red protested, but his entire body twisted in pain when his friend obliged almost too happily.

His mother sighed, "Lord knows I can't bend you over and spank you anymore… because on him, I would!"

Red gulped, but decided to hold his silence as the treatment of his arm continued. There were at least fifty splinters, most of which made themselves at home in his fingers – and that was only his left arm. Moving his right dragged countless shrapnel through his skin, and he knew how painful resting his back on the chair would be. A mild amount of regret welled up within him, and pride was the only thing keeping his teeth from clattering in the dank cold.

After a whole five minutes of silent splinter removal and aggressive pacing, Red's mother stopped, turned and glared at him. "I need some air… I'm stepping out."

"What?!" Red protested, "It's still pouring outside!"

"And _you're_ in a position to talk safety since… when exactly?" Red bit back a retort. There was no right answer when his mother got like this. "That's what I thought."

"Be careful, Mrs. Tajiri," Blue added on as she left. Silent affirmation was followed by the balcony door slamming shut.

"You know," Red began, "She goes on and on about how she'd rather be called _mom_ by the two of you…"

"Yeah, probably because we're a lot less stressful to handle."

Red winced, "Wow. Seriously not the time, Blue…"

"Really? Then when _will_ it be time? You almost got yourself killed! If it wasn't for Mr. Lance-"

"You'd be scraping pieces of me off the underside of a news copter. _I get it_. Only the fifteenth time I'm being reminded…"

"Because we care!" Blue exclaimed, on the verge of tears now. "When you made national news, both Green and I rushed over to catch your mom as she passed out. Why don't you wake up, grow up, and understand that the risk-taking's gone far enough?"

"Do I really need to take this from you? I'm sixteen!"

"Then start acting like it!" she cried, "Don't make national news and make us think your funeral's next week!"

Red was known for being thick-headed, but he knew where lines in the sand were drawn. He was the one who had returned drenched from a flood, but Blue was shivering noticeably. With a long drawn sigh, he relented. "Yeah, okay… I'm sorry."

"You'd better be." Blue huffed, before pulling another splinter out.

Her hands were shaking, and Red needed an ice-breaker. Fast. "Speaking of Green, where _is_ that smartass?"

 **=====#=====**

 **S** andbags formed gargantuan walls at the outskirts of Pallet town, and an abra grunted as the last one supported itself perfectly at the top of things, eight metres above ground. Synthetic water-repellent flood bags – a technological marvel from a decade ago – now warded off the flood from the north with an airtight defense. The weather phenomenon was spreading at a blinding rate, and the twisters in the distance grew more visible by the second. While Route 1 was vast, the hurricane _Kingdra_ was no ordinary storm. Now, at least Pallet town wouldn't get swept away in the event of an expansion.

The news footage of the storm had gone viral, and it had perfectly captured the image of a trainer in red saving a drifloon. The abra approached its owner and tugged at his sleeve, averting his gaze from the footage replaying on his smartphone.

"Hmm? Oh, looks like we're done. Disaster Control should have it from here, then." he scoffed, "If Pallet _had_ a Disaster Control unit… but we're Pallet Town. That would be too convenient, too expensive, and frankly, too good for this dump."

"You got that right." A patrolman from the local precinct chuckled as he walked up to the young man. "It's just us at HQ. If you can call it that. Double storey building; it ain't great, but it gets the job done."

"Double storey? Sounds rough."

"We suck it up." he said, "Thanks for all the help, Mr. Oak. We appreciate it."

"Just Green is fine, Officer Beck," Green promptly returned his abra to its pokeball. "And I'm glad to assist."

Beck sized Green up. The boy looked about sixteen, with spiky brown hair framing his sharp features. His hooded raincoat did little to hide them.

"You look pretty seasoned, Green. I hear the old man always talking about you when he drives by for chats; I gotta say, you're the real deal."

"Gramps likes to exaggerate." Green said with a shrug, "I just do my part as a citizen. It's Red that you've gotta watch."

"Tell me about it. Kid's all over the news."

"He has a bad habit of making himself… known. No doubt we'll be getting a lot of eyes on us soon."

Beck raised a brow, "Soon? So you're heading out?"

"Mhm. Gramps ordered the starter pokemon already. We were supposed to leave today morning, but…" He didn't need to say much, because a simple gesture towards the storm got the message across. "Technical difficulties."

The patrolman laughed out loud, scratching his hair under his gore-tex hood. "Well, you can be sure you'll be getting a medal for this work."

"I'll pass."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I said I'll pass." He waved it off, "I'm not very ceremonious. Plus, I'm not in town for much longer. I'd say save the celebration for _after_ I conquer the Kanto League."

Beck laughed. "Hoho! That's some confidence. You really think you can pull something like that off? It hasn't been done in years."

"Positive." Green smiled. "I was basically born for championship, Officer. Keep your eyes on the news."

He then looked to the sky. The drizzles were simmering down, and from what he could hear, the twisters were distancing themselves. It looked like the Elite 4 had succeeded in their advance relief operation.

"Well, I've got places to be, so if you have everything here under control…" He looked around before beginning to move with hands in his pockets, "Smell ya later."

Officer Beck looked incredulously at the steady, striding figure of Green Oak. He waved slowly, "Heh… some kid."

 **=====#=====**

 **T** elevisions all over western Kanto came alive with the news channels. Once satellite connections had been restored, channels sent out scores of reporters that clamoured up a myriad of porches to hunt down civilian statements. The public loved a good sob story, especially if it could be used to propagate 'charity' drives and relief missions by 'philanthropists.' Pallet Town had never been more active.

The camera rolled at the doorstep of the Oak Residence, and Gabby from the Kanto News Network immediately kicked off her single on air. "Good morning, Kanto! This is Gabby Wilson, coming at you live from the doorstep of esteemed Pokemon Professor Samuel Oak, whose grandson, Green Oak, was integral to the Disaster Prevention efforts undertaken by the Pallet Precinct. While Pallet's shave with hurricane _Kingdra_ was narrow, the worst outcome has nevertheless been avoided. I'm moving in now to get a statement."

The cameraman advanced just as the door opened to reveal the young boy with spiky hair and a frown plastered on his face. He let out a sigh.

"Okay, what gives?"

Gabby jumped on the chance, "Sir, would you like to give us your statements regarding the recent disaster prevention efforts undertaken by Pallet Precinct, and your contributions to them?"

He gave the camera a good, long, hard look, before making the most disgusted expression ever put to television. "No comment."

He slammed the door shut, and no amount of further knocking got anybody out of the house. Gabby let out a defeated sigh off-camera, and her cameraman gave her the _I told you so_ _look_. They decided that they would have better luck with Red's home.

They were wrong.

A grown woman answered the door, and promptly shut it in their faces with another _no comment_. She seemed particularly angry at the cameraman. There were no interesting headlines that day, and if Kanto News Network had failed so miserably, it stood to reason that the other, smaller networks would not fare too much better. Pallet Town exited the spotlight at the very same speed it had entered it after Red's antics.

 **=====#=====**

 **"** **H** ey, Poli," Red sighed, staring at his room ceiling. "Think the grounding'll end any time soon?"

The poliwhirl shrugged, and while Red didn't see it, he knew there was no other gesture for the occasion. That was the extent of their bond.

"Yeah, me neither… but I'm sure news will come soon. We're way overdue at the prof's lab anyway. Storm really set us back."

Since Red was a three-year-old boy, and Poli was an undersized poliwag fresh from atop its own eggshells, the two shared this very same room. They had polished the maple floor together, washed out the large windows that overlooked the porch, spent hours upon hours at the teak desk finishing assignments from the Pallet Academy for Trainers, and slept countless nights huddled together in the very same bed they were flopped on at that moment.

A sense of emptiness permeated through Red. The entire week he had eaten meals in silence across from his mother, who had calmed herself a little, but was steadfast on his punishment: It was to last until he would set off with his two friends to take on the Pokemon League challenge. No more, no less.

After five minutes passed in silence, the boy began flailing in his bed as he realised how pitiful this existence was.

"Argh! I can't take this anymore, man!" he told Poli. "There have been zero updates from Green, the television shows the same three cartoons on repeat, and I have 100%'ed every game on the Gamecube! What the hell am I supposed to do, stare at the goddamned ceiling till nightfall?"

At that very second, it was like unsung prayers had been answered. His phone vibrated with a distinctive _buzz_. Red gave the screen a scrutinous squint, and there were three messages from Blue. A fourth had come in that very moment. He touched the notification and entered his PIN.

* * *

 **[Blue 14:45]** _Heyyy! News finally came in!_

 **[Blue 14:45]** _Grounding ends soon_

 **[Blue 14:46]** _Green just txted. Said the prof got the starters in delivery, and hes making final preps as we speak._ _  
_ **Fwd (14:44):** _Gramps got starters in the mail today. He's calibrating our dexes now, so tell that idiot Red to prepare himself for an early bail. Much as I'd love to ditch him, I don't give out the pokemon. Gramps does._

 **[Blue 14:46]** _Idk when his sense of humour got so sour, but idrc._ _Sooo excited rn.  
asjpodjqpojfwqpodnspk-_

* * *

Nothing should have been able to top the complete mess of alphabets in Blue's last text, but a fire igniting in Red's eyes proved otherwise. With an ecstatic _woohoo!_ the boy jumped off his bed. "Poli! We're free!" he cried. "Free from this tyranny! At last!"

The fact that Green had called him an idiot didn't faze the boy in the least. He was too busy dancing a jig with Poli. The poliwhirl happily went along, sharing its trainer's joy. After all, whenever their mother passed judgment, they usually shared it.

Red jumped onto his bed and began texting back at breakneck speeds.

* * *

 **[** ** **You 14:48]**** _Cool! When do we leave?_

 **[Blue 14:48]** _Well, the arrangements should be done by tomorrow morning. Meet you outside your place at six?_

 **[You 14:48]** _It's a date._

* * *

Red couldn't believe what he was reading. In one leap, he grabbed Poli's hand and rushed the both of them out of his room and down the stairs.

"Mom! They're here! They're here!"

The boy was on the verge of tears; tomorrow, he would have his freedom and be able to register as an Indigo League challenger. While sliding down the staircase rail, he imagined the whole thing. A full team of powerful pokemon with him at the head of things, taking command and squaring off against the greatest trainers in the entire country. A grand vision of triumph, all at the crack of a radiant dawn. Nothing short of Arceus itself was going to stop him.

 **X===== FIN =====X**

 **A/N: To start with, Christmas is approaching (or is here, time zones are weird), and since the next update probably won't be before the day itself, I want to take this chance to wish all my readers and supporters a Merry Christmas!**

 **Now, on to content comments, this chapter saw the introduction to Green Oak and Blue - the rival trainer and the female protagonist in game canon.**

 **I know there's quite a bit of confusion with the two names due to the release of Pokémon Blue version in the western world as opposed to its Japanese counterpart, Pokémon Green version, so I'm writing this note to clarify that Green is the rival trainer (anime watchers would know him as Gary), while Blue is the female protagonist. This is how I'm writing the story, so please try not to clutter the reviews with wars over the names. I believe in authenticity over localisation in this particular case.**


	3. Chapter 3

**E** ngines roared through the night as a red sedan ripped into the mist covering Saffron City's streets. Within it sat two men; one panicked at the rear-view and the other shoved his foot into the accelerator, setting off the sickening screech of tires as rubber burnt against the asphalt and carved hot tracks into the road. They drifted into a right turn around the corner of the Silph Company building as sirens raised hell on their trail.

"Put a step in it, Tobey! Me mother drove faster in 'er virgin years!"

Tobey's sweat bounced off his skin as they made the drift and sped down town. "And ya put a lid on dat mouth o' yours, Raimi! Dis piece o' junk don't go any faster!"

Headlights elucidated a harrowing trail of uneven tar before the vehicle dragged itself over copious potholes. Horror washed over Raimi's eyes as the lamppost came into view.

"Tobey! Post!" He cried as they drifted across the asphalt.

"Say whaa-"

It was too late. The bonnet _crunched_ under the force of impact that knocked over the post they collided into, and the entire car nearly flipped forward. Both Tobey and Raimi were left a bloodied mess as the wailing sirens came slowly into focus.

Many doors opened, and footfalls echoed across the pavement. Safeties came off in a rhythmic beat of clicks.

"Freeze! This is Saffron P.D., and you are under arrest!" a young voice bellowed over the din. "Step out of the car and put your hands over your head! Now!"

"We done fecked up now…" Raimi groaned as the police forced their doors open and pulled them out into stumbles on the street. Both men knelt without resistance, and their hands were cuffed.

"Bad night to pull a deal, bucko," one of the officers sneered as they were led to a police van that had driven in. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be used against you in a court of law."

"Not that you lowlives deserve much of a trial." another one called from the crash site, waving a pack of white powder he retrieved from the trunk the squad pried open with a crowbar.

"Break a leg, ya eejits… we're from Kalos, and when we get outta 'ere, you two'll be meat sacks for de shootin'…" Tobey grumbled as he stumbled onto Raimi in the back of the van. The two said nothing further after the doors slammed shut on their faces, and the squad began to move.

 **=====#=====**

 **D** etective Martin Bennett sighed, looking over questioning transcripts of the two newly captured members of the Kalosian mob at his dimly lit desk. His pupils were tired, and his bones ached from the lack of sleep, but alas, there were no defined hours for law enforcement. No holidays, no off days, the entire life was so volatile that one often questioned their choice in career a mere three years into the thick of things. Bennett had five, but all he could think about was how young the night was.

"Good work today, Detective," a voice called from beyond the office door, and the hinges creaked. "You sure you're good for the day?"

"Positive," Martin said without looking up.

"Sun's rising soon, and this is your third night."

"Well, the mob doesn't seem to give two shits." He clicked his tongue before looking up from the transcript. "Can I _help_ you, Captain?"

The Captain laughed. "As a matter of fact, yeah. I was looking for a second opinion on the Monaghan Case."

"What, the biker shooting?"

"One and only. You aren't officially assigned, but you're the best we've got on the force, son. And if there's anything we could use right now, it's more hands on deck."

"Sure thing, sir." Bennet sighed, because he knew the truth. Five years slogging away at reports and plucking the weeds that were Saffron's criminal element had gotten the Detective adept at reading between the lines. A second opinion wasn't needed; a competent one was. "I'll give it a once over. Leave the file on the desk."

The Captain nodded and obliged before leaving the room

For all intents and purposes, Saffron's Police Department was comprised primarily of donut-popping, pot-bellied degenerates who survived on bribes and strong-arms. Those that broke the culture usually wound up shot dead in an alleyway. Just in the past month, Officers Francis, Kamalan and Hibiki had their bodies found riddled with bullets, stab wounds, or, in poor Hibiki's case, both. The idiots had tried to move in on criminal activity – small time muggings or robberies – but the street rats these days were armed to the teeth.

Not one dark corner was safe anymore, because if you weren't shot up or shanked, you would probably fall victim to some disease from all the streetside litter - perfect breeding grounds for grimer and trubbish.

Bennett sometimes reflected on this atop the precinct roof with a cigarette in mouth. He had friends in other police departments, a few in the DA's office, a few more from back in his training days, all scattered across the world. They had assured him that Kanto was the worst off: an awful, war-torn region screaming like an abattoir full of retarded children.

His only company before hours in the silent office was a ticking clock, and he could practically count the seconds as delirium twisted and turned the letters on the transcript page. His knuckles whitened as he crumpled the papers, for seconds crawled into minutes which felt like years. He could feel himself greying.

His teeth grit and his forehead dampened, before it all culminated in a roar. The Detective shot out of his seat and threw the files against the wall and clutched his head in frustration. _Incompetent buffoons…_ he thought, _they cheesed the freakin' interrogation!_

Detective Bennett promptly stormed out of the office. He didn't have time for the Monaghan Case. He had other work.

 **=====#=====**

 **R** aimi yelped when his back slammed into the questioning room's wall. "What de bloomin' 'ell is goin' on? I did dis already!"

"Well, we're going for round two!" Bennet roared. Raimi shrunk against the wall before the detective grabbed his collar and slammed him again. "You're gonna talk. Right now! How do you get the drugs into the city?"

"Screw you, ya bumbaclart!" Raimi spat, "I ain't tellin you till I tell de boss and 'e gets yer entire family, yeah! Den I'll keep kickin' yer pathetic meat sack till Ah don't find it funny no more!"

Bennett seethed, and his voice came with the venomous vitriol of ten ravenous sevipers, "Now listen here, and listen closely, you little shit! I've been at this game for five long, _grueling_ years, and the last thing threatening me is some _punk_ who didn't pass out of fourth grade."

Then he leaned in close and whispered a bold-faced lie into the shaking man's ear, "Let's put this in terms you'll understand… I've got friends in high places. The kind you don't mess with if you value your identity. One court order, one dollar-store stamp, and five minutes of time wasted on a letter to the Feds, and I can set up a sting with stored intel. After that, I'll pull _all the strings I can_ , lay _all my chips out_ , and call in _every favour_ I have amassed over my career to see to your untimely release, so you can return to the very streets you _sucked off_ for however long your bastard parents turned your ass loose on society. Now I don't know about you, but if I led a mob, got stung after one of my boys went in, and then saw that motherfucker walking free three days later…"

It didn't matter if he could follow through. It only mattered that Raimi believed he could, and he did. The Kalosian trembled like a child who had just witnessed his brother put through the Blood Eagle. Slowly, he devolved into tears, whimpering the name of the lord.

Detective Bennett smiled as he released the collar from his shaking grip. "Do we have an understanding?"

"Alright, alright, I'll spill, ya lunatic," Raimi swore, "Ahn me mama I'll talk… jeezus!"

 **=====#=====**

 **C** aptain Lewis was horrified when he heard the whimpers of an emasculated man from the questioning room. He couldn't fathom what was happening; nobody was scheduled for questioning at this hour. With a racing heart, he moved to open the door, but the man inside beat him to it. Martin Bennett nearly walked straight into him.

"Bennett? What the hell are you doing?" he cried, "This was in no way sanctioned!"

"But it got results. Results ol' Faraday cheesed. Did you even _look_ at the transcript before you sent it my way?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I got us a lead," the detective slammed the door behind him.

Lewis pinched his nose bridge, a thousand thoughts racing through his mind. "I should have your badge for this stunt…"

"You can get it after you lock down Saffron."

Lewis reeled, "What are you-"

"It's the Kalosians. They've paid off the guards at the gates. All four of them with some seriously dirty money. We've got powder running in _junction_ through this damn city. We lock it out, we _cripple_ their operation. I have the whole thing on record."

The look in Martin Bennett's tired eyes was driven. After three sleepless nights, he finally had something. The Captain saw this, and let out a sigh.

"Get a new transcript printed." he said firmly, "I'll see what I can do about our little drug problem. As for the money… we might have to look into a task force for tracking that."

"Roger that. I'll have it to you by sunrise." Bennett took a left and paced towards his office.

"By the way," Lewis called, stopping the detective mid-stride. "Good work."

He received a curt nod, and once Martin was out of earshot, he let go of a breath he didn't know he was holding. Nobody trusted the police these days, and he was starting to see why. Before office hours even started, the man wanted to go home.

 **=====#=====**

 **N** ews channels across Kanto's main continent were running wild with the announcement of the Saffron City gate lockdown. Businesses were up in arms, Pokemon League representatives across the land commentated in heated debate on live television, and the common people were raising hell on the streets in riot factions. Within the dimly lit confines of his quarters, a man cycled through channels, met with the same news continuing broken sentences from the transition.

Three knocks rang on the door before hinges creaked, and a young man in white let himself in.

"Sir, have you got the news on?" he asked promptly, and got his answer when he saw the channel swapping stop. A sigh escaped the man on the couch as he rose after switching the television off.

"Good morning, Archer," He spoke with a deep and commanding voice that radiated power. "Have you got an update for me?"

"Only what you saw, sir…" Archer said, "Sources inside Saffron P.D. say one of the Kalosians cracked under pressure."

The man scoffed, "How very like them. I assume this little complication has compromised the logistics for more than just those filthy addicts."

"Not fully. Cerulean is still fresh for the taking. Although, this does put a wrench in our operation… Saffron P.D. almost traced the money back to R.A.R.E., so we need to lay low."

"Almost?" he raised a brow.

"Yes, sir. I've seen to the complete liquidation and redistribution of Kalos Royale. Assuming they do manage to get past our security measures in the archives, they'll need to sift through three hundred million worth of assets to trace the goods back to us," Archer laughed, "And _nobody_ has that kind of time. Not these days."

A smile appeared on the man's face as he walked past Archer towards his high rise balcony overlooking the city of Celadon. His eyes glistened in reflection of the rising Sun, taking in the beauty the city radiated.

For just one moment of heartfelt catharsis, he allowed himself to forget what lay beneath the surface. The gun-touting rats that razed the streets with their odious lechery, sniffing out of bags they would soon fall on top of, too tipsy to tell apart the many realities they would have seen.

In that one moment when he closed his eyes, he saw it. The image of a perfect city, one which put these parasites exactly where they belonged: six feet beneath the dirt that caked his boots.

They were _this_ close to the dream.

"Sir… is everything alright?" Archer sounded concerned as he approached the balcony.

His boss nodded, "Of course. I was just… reflecting."

"What would you have us do next?"

"Consolidate our forces, and set up grunt squads assigned to both the active executives. We need to expedite the creation of the Evo-Weapon," his voice boomed, "Petrel is to gather the required samples from fossils in Mount Moon, and Arianna will see to the… _cooperation_ of Mr. Aizawa in phase 2."

"Yes sir," Archer nodded, "And… what about me?"

"You, Archer, I will need by my side." he replied, turning and looking Archer dead in the eye, "The next meeting… I will attend it in person."

Archer's eyes widened, "But sir, to step out of the shadows now-"

"The shadows have served me well, but a man who refuses to risk his neck for his people… is doomed to watch his empire crumble," he frowned, "The Unovans, Kalosians, Bikers… they are animals, and to animals, _power_ … is the _only_ law."

The executive gulped, and his boss continued, "The police's unprecedented competence has compromised the foundation of our agreement. A show of _power_ is the only thing that will keep things together."

"… Understood, sir."

"Good," he smiled, "Now execute."

Archer placed his right fist upon his chest - upon the crimson **R** carved into the pure white fabric - and bowed to his commander. "For Rocket."

"For Rocket," the man responded, and Archer let himself out.

This left him alone at the balcony, overlooking the awful city beneath him. What was once a beautiful glow in the clouds now cast a jaundiced tint upon the streets that bred the worms which devoured the light. He was left to bask in it, and to condemn it as he did every morning when the day liberated him from sleep. But he felt it coming. His sweet release from this loathsome war.

 **X===== FIN =====X**

 **A/N: Sorry this chapter took longer to pump out, but it's mainly for worldbuilding. Love the support this fic's been getting thus far, and here's hoping 2019 is a great year for all of us.**

 **As usual, any criticisms can and should be brought to my attention. Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**D** etective Tyson Fletcher made his way down the Viridian Precinct's staircase, causing quite the din with his shoes against the wooden steps. Weekends had no more sanctity, he thought, beholding the entirety of the force hard at work on Sunday night. The keys in his pocket jingled as he drew them while weaving around his colleagues to the detention cells, where a familiar face awaited him.

"What is this, Jay, the fourth time this month?" Tyson asked, sorting the keys under the fading lamp. "Ever get tired of playing hero?"

"Never with you behind me, man." The man inside ran a hand through his auburn hair. "I'll try to go a week this time, though."

"You'll fail. You always do."

"Not where it counts."

Jason was a well-intentioned teenager, but the law seldom cared about good intentions. After all, they were a dime a dozen on the path to hell. Tall, tactful and charismatic, he possessed all the makings of a vigilante with a cult following - a homeless man that got by on donations of spare change and scotch while he looked out for his fellow man on the streets. A mugging here, a robbery there, if he were on the scene, one often found the perp leaking on his fists while they gargled on their own blood.

"So, Ty, I was listening to the news…"

"Oh yeah," Tyson replied, his keys still jingling, "They locked up Saffron. Didn't think the League had it in 'em."

"Sucks to hear. I have a cousin there I planned to visit."

"Family that still loves you?" The detective chortled. "Ever consider a career in stand-up? I'd have less paperwork, and maybe - just maybe - you'd have a house."

"Housing's overrated," Jason said, "Once you sleep on the bench, there ain't no going back."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. It gives you the high ground over us honest, working citizens with families."

"Speaking of, how's the vic doing?"

"Stomach wound," Tyson sighed, "the knife missed his vitals, but the guy lost a lot of blood. Hospital said he's stable, though. Worst part's gonna be calling his immediate family - lady who lives down at Pallet."

"The town with the red storm kid? Yeowch," Jason cringed, "Give her my best, will ya?"

"Will do. Maybe you can drop by Viridian General later. It's not like you sleep."

"Sounds good. You gonna be on duty?"

"When am I not?" He rolled his eyes. One of the twenty something keys on his ring clicked, and the cell door opened with a loud creak. "You're good to go, Jay. Just try calling us _before_ beating our perp half to death next time. You're lucky the noise woke the locals."

"No promises," Jason saluted him two-fingered, "Good luck at work, detective. Lord knows you don't catch a break."

"People like you let us rest easy, so cheers." Tyson saluted him back. "Your pokemon's safe and sound with the desk sergeant, by the way. Took the liberty of healing him up."

"Harold thanks you from the bottom of his heart. Cheers."

The night had been a rough encounter with a mugger and a married couple. A very typical scene, even in a smaller city like Viridian. Young Jason had taken initiative when he stumbled upon it, and now the police had to deal with a self-righteous street rat mumbling in a hospital bed.

 **=====#=====**

 **"** **B** lue, I realise you're excited, but I'd really appreciate some help with the dishes!" Aunt Joyce called over the running sink. "Get down here when you can, will you?"

"I'll be right there!" Blue's voice hollered from upstairs where she sat in front of a wardrobe. The maple flooring was covered in clothes scattered by what one could surmise had been a tornado straying from _Kingdra_. On her desk was her neatly folded travel outfit - a mix of comfort and function - along with a jacket for colder times, and a white hat, courtesy of her parents in Viridian.

 _All set,_ she thought, before placing her packed sling bag beside the clothes. Blue had just resolved to help with the dishes when she heard her aunt call once more.

"Blue dear, there's a call for you! It's from Viridian Precinct, and it sounds urgent."

"What?" She wondered if this was some sort of prank. "I'm coming!"

Deciding she would rather attend to the call sooner than later, Blue quickly skipped down the staircase to her aunt, who held the phone out for her.

"Holmwood speaking. What's the issue?" As the voice on the other end spoke, her face grew pale, and time slowed to a crawl. "No…"

"What happened, dear?" Aunt Joyce asked, only to get shut down by a raised hand.

"I understand…" Blue's voice shook, "No, thank _you_ , I'll be over as soon as I can."

She slammed the phone down on the receiver, and her aunt gave her a worried look. "Is… is everything alright?"

Blue turned to her on the verge of tears. "It's Mom and Dad. They…"

"Heavens! What happened?"

"They were attacked. They're alive, but…" She choked on her words. "Dad's not doing too well. I have to go."

"Oh Blue…" Without hesitation, she pulled her niece into an embrace, allowing the girl a few sobs. With pats on her back, she said, "I'm coming with you, dear. Let me call a cab."

Blue pulled away and shook her head. "No, I'll fly over."

"But-"

"Cab's too slow. I'll fly over," she insisted.

Aunt Joyce sighed and nodded. "I'll bring breakfast on my way there, then."

Blue didn't waste a moment dashing up the stairs. She quickly got changed into her prepared travel outfit, straightened her hat, and retrieved her pokeball. "Carrie, we gotta fly, girl."

After steeling herself, she lobbed her pokeball out of the second floor window into the drizzle, and promptly took a leap herself. Her pokemon came forth with a brilliant flash, revealing chrome feathers as sharp as blades, along with an armoured body that broke her fall with incredible speed. The skarmory cawed loud enough to wake the neighbourhood before breaking into a flightline straight for Viridian City.

 **=====#=====**

 **B** ehind the teak door of room 306 in Viridian General's endless corridors, the morbid beeps of a heart monitor wove themselves into the white silence within four walls. A mere three hours back, Mr. Holmwood was brought in at death's door. Two hours back, he was in critical condition and under intensive care. Now, he rested, his chest heaving peaceful breaths to keep him within the light's embrace.

 _Beep beep. Beep beep._

His wife sat shivering by his side, as though within the coils of a seviper. Demise had clutched her husband by the heart, and poor Aurelia didn't have it in her to even cry. She only saw the haunting image of those soulless eyes in the alleyway, the sick grin that man had when he twisted a knife into a complete stranger; every time she closed her eyes, he saw the gleam in his as the blade bathed in blood.

The door flew open as she prayed for awakening while clasping Mr. Holmwood's hand.

"Mom! How's Dad?" Blue stormed into the room, soaking wet from the rain she had just braved. "Are… are you alright?"

"Blue…"

Aurelia rose from her chair, shaking, and squeezed her daughter. Although she was drenched, Blue could feel how cold her mother was. Cold from fear and dread.

"I'm here, Mom," she patted Aurelia on the back, "I'm here."

"Oh, Blue, it was horrible! Your father, he-"

"Shh. It's alright," she hugged her mother tighter, "You can tell me what happened later, okay? Just relax for now."

Aurelia couldn't get any words out. The fear and anguish caught up to her all at once, and all that came were tears onto her daughter's shoulders. Blue knew for both their sakes that she needed to show her inner strength, no matter how tempting it was to join her mother and sob it out. Her grip around her mother was almost protective.

 **=====#=====**

 **G** unfire pierced the night's embrace as bullets embedded themselves in the abandoned construction site walls uptown. Andre lowered his smoking muzzle, and horror washed over him. His benefactor - a local roughneck named Gar - laughed alongside three shady men in leather.

"Good shot, Andre! Now, try the Rail Rifle, will ya?"

Andre gulped, handing one of the men the handgun. "I… I dunno about this anymore, Gar…"

"You chickening out?" The roughneck frowned. "Come on, kid, what happened to movin' up in the world? Huh? You wanna join the Bikerz? You can't do that unless you learn to pump some whores with lead now and then."

"But…"

"Just take the damn rifle, punk."

Gar stretched his hand out, and one of the men reached into the parked truck and pulled a full-sized Rail Rifle. A sleek black unit with an iron butt and glossed chassis, it was a Unovan design that used a gearframe of klink magnetically locked with a specially size-bred magnemite to power bolts as lethal ammunition. Even the weakest variety could pierce kevlar with ease.

Andre gulped and took the rifle, nearly falling over from the weight of the item. With shaking hands, he positioned himself and took aim at the wall, when a sickening crack resounded from behind the truck.

"Wh-What was that?" Andre squeaked.

"What was what?" Gar asked, and Andre gave him an incredulous look.

"You… you didn't hear that?"

One of the men standing by the truck frowned. "Wait here. I'm checking this out."

He drew the handgun Andre had just used and disappeared into the alley within which the truck was parked. On the other side, it was pitch black with unfinished buildings spewing unused cable lines across the upper levels to form a multi-storey labyrinth.

To his horror, he found the limp, bleeding body of his partner. Their operation was compromised.

As a hand grabbed him by the mouth, his gun fired into the blackness and his skull dented the bonnet with a dreadful crack.

Andre panicked on the shooting range along with Gar and the remaining arms dealers. They drew their weapons and moved to the street where their partners lay unconscious. Another assault from the shadows smashed their heads together, unleashing booming stray ammo. A foot drove into a ribcage, and a fist dug repeatedly into a now disfigured jaw with the most nauseating sound of cheekbones fracturing.

Gar trembled when he beheld it: a hooded man rising from the heap of four bodies battered and leaking onto the asphalt. His clenched fists dripped the blood of the fallen men onto the ground, and his sights were set on Gar.

Before he could aim his gun or draw his pokeball, the roughneck received a blow across his jaw that floored him. The hooded man then mounted him and laid a horrible beatdown in the shadow of the alley. Cracks of disfiguration rang hollow in the empty streets of the abandoned complex, and Andre trembled in fear as his associate's face collapsed in on itself, beaten out of shape by the relentless attacks. Again and again he beat into poor Gar and reduced him to a whimpering mess on the ground, reaching desperately for the pokeball that had rolled out of reach.

 **=====#=====**

 **M** other and daughter finally enjoyed some peace together. They were well past Mr. Holmwood's hospital room and the beeping heart monitor which made Blue's skin crawl. The cafeteria had a much more welcoming ambience. One could practically see their own face on the freshly waxed mahogany floor, and the dim lighting during the unearthly hours brought a welcome change from the sterile hospital room

"So this guy just… _saved_ you?" Blue asked, "Talk about luck."

Aurelia sighed. "I know, but…"

"But?"

"It was all so violent."

She wanted to take a sip of her tea, but Aurelia found her hand shaking too much. Blue covered her hands with her own.

"Hey, he saved your life. And as far as I'm concerned, that filthy mugger got what was coming to him."

"You… you don't understand." Aurelia trembled. "That boy, he wasn't normal."

"Of course he wasn't. This is a guy who saved you and Dad by beating down a knife-toting mugger while wearing a black hoodie," Blue said, "Look on the bright side - Dad's safe, and that maniac's in intensive care. It's more than he deserved, but that's a win in my book."

Aurelia looked appalled. "Blue, whatever that man did, he did _not_ deserve his face splashed across the pavement. Especially not like that!"

"Mom, relax. I was just-"

"How can you call this a 'win?'" cried Aurelia, "What I saw was a sick vigilante with the power to brutalise whoever he damn well pleases, on the prowl!"

"Mom, please…"

"No! He could have robbed us next if the cops hadn't gotten there," she shrieked, drawing looks from strangers, "How can you make a hero out of that psychopath? We raised you better than that!" In sudden realisation that her daughter wouldn't meet her eyes anymore, though, the trembling woman stopped. "Blue, I…"

"Mom, don't," Blue gritted her teeth, finally letting tears topple her irides, "It's fine."

"I didn't mean to-"

"I said it's fine!" She slammed the table and rose with eyes still fogged. "I… I need some air."

"Blue…"

Without another word, Blue made her way towards the exit. Life had other plans, however, for the door parted to reveal an entire party of people - familiar faces the girl had seen all the while growing up. Her two friends, Red and Green, along with Aunt Joyce, Mrs. Tajiri, and even Professor Oak. The brunette was taken completely aback, and quickly wiped off her tears.

"G-guys?"

"We came as soon as we heard," said Green as the adults rushed to Aurelia Holmwood's side, "Which, by the way, thanks for the heads-up you never sent."

Red elbowed him in the ribs with a frown, which he then directed at her. "He's got a point, though… you could've at least dropped a text. Do you have any idea how much we freaked when we got the news?"

While Mrs. Tajiri and the good professor comforted her mother, Blue stood overwhelmed at the door with both the boys. "Yeah, guess I should have… sorry."

Red gave her a concerned look, easily having picked up on the tear tracks. "Hey, seriously, is everything alright?"

"I'm fine," Blue snapped, "Look, I just need some time alone. Can we do this later?"

She didn't wait for an answer, simply bumping a surprised Green's shoulder on her way out. Red reached to say something, but she was well out of earshot by the time he gathered his thoughts.

 **=====#=====**

 **T** he Anderson Club was a booming hub of activity, even past the fifth hour when normal people got out of bed and ready for their days at work. Monday mornings were no exception. The D.J. blasted Unovan Pop for the full-house dance floor, and the bartender handed out the common orders of scotch whiskey or bourbon, along with Kalosian Wine for the occasionally cultured. Light streamed in through shutter and curtain which cut it up and made certain that it was overpowered by the dancing colours that rained from the disco ball.

Far east of civilisation, the scum of the streets danced and sang away their miserable existences, oblivious to time or tempest, to good or evil, for the Unovans valued one thing above all: Family.

From atop a cold throne that oversaw the drunken and gay, Roscoe 'Slugma' Cappoli puffed up a smoke cloud after taking in the exotic cigar he held between fingers. Shades covered his eyes in cross-section with the nasty scar that gashed him by the right cheekbone and overpowered any standout features he may have possessed. Fanned by whores who attended to his every need and amused by the dancing vermin beneath his footing, the Unovan Gang Leader lived in bliss as the tunes mingled vivaciously in his ears.

As Cappoli smoked another puff, however, cacophony pervaded his spotless marble flooring, which was desecrated promptly by warm, dripping blood. A single man in black leather held his body together with his unbroken hand before collapsing at the entrance.

The sight stilled the dancers, struck fear into the uninitiated, and killed the music like a bullet in the cold. Jaws dropped, women screamed, but the most terrifying of all things gone awry was Cappoli's smile fading.

"What's the meaning of this?" He hollered with a twitch of the eye. "Bouncers! Bring me this bastard. Now!"

Two muscular men in black grabbed the man by an arm each and dragged him up the stairs without regard for the bloodstain. The man collapsed at Slugma's feet and whimpered like a dog.

Cappoli squinted under his shades. "What's the meaning of this, Gary?"

"S-Sir, I can explain-" Gary sputtered while bleeding from the mouth, "It was the black hood- h-he did us in."

"Calm down, there," Cappoli raised a hand, "I didn't get a word of that." He turned to face the club in its entirety before shedding his shades to reveal a pair of bloodshot eyes. "Clubbers… out! Now!"

No one dared question his authority. Even the lowly rats that came for the free snacks knew what happened to those who did. In a matter of seconds, the urchins scrambled into disjointed bunches and squeezed through the exits. Soon the man was alone with his boss, who hadn't risen from his throne. Cappoli put his shades back on.

"Now… you're going to go slow, Gary. No need to be afraid," he smiled almost reassuringly, "We _are_ family, after all."

After a nervous laugh, Gary described in vivid detail how their entire arms deal with the Bikerz had gone south, and how a singular man in a black hood had brutalised every one of their men uptown - sans a teenager who happened to be on the scene - and how he had managed to hobble all the way back with a message.

"H-He said he's comin' for you, boss… he was a freak! A madman! You gotta-"

"Pipe down, punk!" Cappoli roared, letting his building temper erupt. "I didn't ask you for advice!"

He rose and crushed the kneeling man's hand with a step forward, drawing a blood curdling scream.

"Now, Gary… I don't want you to hold this against me."

"N-no boss… y-you're the greatest man I know! I would never-" He screamed more as Cappoli twisted his foot into the broken hand. Now on the verge of tears, Gary began to cry for mercy with drooling lips.

"See, with my men, I make it a point to remember their names," Cappoli said, "Names define men like us: brothers who started with nothing but the names our parents gifted us…" He scrunched Gary's hand further. "The name of the man, the name of his wife, his two daughters, I make it a point to learn 'em all."

A sense of dread washed over Gary, and he prostrated himself completely before the ruthless crime lord that stood upon him. "B-Boss! Please! I beg of ya-"

"Unovans. Don't. Beg!" Cappoli spat upon him before cracking him across the face with the very same foot that crushed him so. "Now I'm a reasonable man, Gary. I'm offering you a chance… a golden chance to do right by your honourable brothers who stood their ground against this hood man…"

Gary sniffled. "Y-yes boss, anything ya say!"

"Tell me, what kind of a man was he?"

"Er…" Gary gulped, "He was a madman, a freak o' nature! There was this… this _anger_ to 'im that I'd never seen before."

"No, Gary, I'm asking _what kind of man_ he was."

"I-I don't follow…"

"You traded fists with a fighter, and you're still unable to tell me what kind of a man he was. Disgraceful."

At this moment, Gary knew that he was gone. There was no anger in Cappoli's voice, only crushing disappointment. He gave Gary a look like he was nothing more than dirt to be stepped on.

"I'm sorry, Gary, but I gave you the chance you sought, and you failed… again," Cappoli said, "Rest assured, I'll give Leela and Tracey your best wishes."

"B-Boss-"

"Family cares for its own, after all."

Cappoli stepped aside, and a bubbling heat permeated through the dark disco hall. Flaring up and warming the entire building was the crime lord's volcanic pokemon, sizing its new prey up with cold, soulless eyes. Gary watched in horror as it came upon him while burning everything it crawled over.

Come sunrise, the Anderson Club blasted its other variety of music: The screams of the damned, as the boss' namesake melted skin and bone over an agonising hour. Viridian belonged to the Unovans, as did the famous club, so the good people turned tail and uttered not a word.

 **=====#=====**

 **T** he morning breeze blew swiftly over the Viridian General terrace, and the cold gripped the air enough to fog breath. While no man or 'mon sought to brave the six-o'clock winds, Blue leaned apathetically forward over the railing. Her tears carved streaks of frost across her cheeks, but her hiccups kept her moving and warm. She took in the breathtaking view of the city, but it did little to wash away her boiling anger.

For the life of her, Blue couldn't fathom how her mother could so callously shoot her down after all she had sacrificed today to provide support. Today was supposed to have been _the_ day - when she finally departed on her trainer's journey to throw her very best at the Pokemon League challenge alongside her two closest friends, but life had a way with tragedy.

"Hey," a voice from behind cut into the silence, "Mind if I join you?"

It was Red. He was alone. While Blue didn't give him an answer, he walked on in the face of neutrality and took a spot beside her.

"Nice view, huh?"

"Terrible ice-breaker, Red. We're not in some sappy drama flick."

"Sorry," Red flinched, "I was just worried about you, and I figured I'd find you up here."

Blue let out a sigh. "Didn't I say I wanted time alone?"

Red didn't have an immediate answer to that. Instead, he set his eyes back on the view with a squint over various details.

"Sometimes, we don't know what we want," he said, "So I decided I'd come up here anyway. Just in case you changed your mind, you know?" Blue frowned at him, leading him to add on quickly: "Besides, the hospital's stuffy and full of crying people."

After a struggle, she stifled soft chuckles. Now that Red was here, Blue found herself stifling a lot of things: her hiccups, her sobs and her overwhelming desire to scream. Tension lingered as she tested various expressions to calm her nerves and boiling blood. Eventually, she relented to her friend's presence.

"How could she just snap at me like that?" She felt relief in spite of risking noise complaints, and the catharsis didn't stop. "After everything - after what happened to Dad - why does she think she's the only one trying to cope?"

Their eyes locked, and Red listened without a word.

"I haven't seen her in months, Red! So why?" Blue sniffled, and her voice lowered to a shaking whisper. "I… I wanted to surprise them… on my journey, travelling with both of you… so why? Why did things turn out this way?"

Red found solace in the view of the city; something about the sight of the suburban architecture and streamlined lighting captivated him. Rays of a new day were just over the horizon's edge, and with them came profound thought that backed his every word and every action. The first of these, a shrug.

"I don't know."

Blue looked at him incredulously. "Pardon?"

"I don't know," he repeated, "I'm sixteen. You think _I_ know the ways of the universe?" His eyes trained themselves back on hers, and there was a harmony to their mirrored shades of azure. "I do know something, though: It doesn't matter why it happened." he said, "I know you're stronger than it. In fact, you're the strongest person I know."

Blue's eyes widened.

"I know that whatever happened in that cafe doesn't really matter. That was in the heat of the moment, you know? That time people don't really mean what they say." He paused in memory of his mother in a rage after the storm. "Sometimes… you've gotta be the bigger person and let it go."

A warmth welled up in her as the final cascade of tears rolled down marked tracks.

"It doesn't matter what anyone says; I've got your back. If you're not ready to leave yet, I'll stay here with you," Red smiled, "Since, y'know, toppling the League wouldn't be the same without you."

Words couldn't pen the torrent of emotions Blue felt racing through her. She pulled away from the railing and took a deep breath before smothering Red in a tight embrace.

"Thanks… Y-You have no idea how much that means to me."

Red froze in her grasp. "Um… can I take a guess?"

"You can shut up," she smiled.

Stars faded, paving the way for the morning to pierce velvet sky and bathe Viridian in the dawn of a new day. A golden Sun silhouetted the pair on the hospital terrace, washing fog and sorrow away in a flood of radiance.

 **X===== FIN =====X**

 **A/N: So, this chapter's a wee bit longer than the last few, but hey, you got the action you were promised by the premise and hook. Additionally, think of it as an apology for making you guys wait as long as you did.**

 **I'm actually curious about you guys' opinions on the chapter lengths. Writing this one was not too bad, so I'll put the question out there: Do you prefer this 4k+ word count, or the old 2k+ one? PM me or hit up my discord, which can be found on my profile.**


	5. Chapter 5

**T** he rising Sun melted the night away, and residents and street dwellers alike rested easy. Rattata retreated into their hollows within the dumpsters, as did the hoothoot their tree hollows, and pidgey began their day foraging for leftovers in the wind.

A warm breeze blew past a low-hanging balcony by the patient wards where Green Oak observed the city come alive on Monday. His expression was one of boredom as he held his pokegear up in video conference mode, connecting to the servers in Cerulean City. Once the call patched through, the video feed cleared feedback to unveil a beautiful young woman in a lab coat. Her luscious blonde hair flowed like a river in the drafts, and her eyes shone a jade reflection of Route 24.

"Green?" She spoke smiling. "It's been so long! How are you?"

"Good morning, Daisy, I've been well. Are you outside?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm just gathering some last minute diagnostic data for Grandpa, what with the sudden storm… It left pokemon all over Kanto on edge, even if it didn't hit this area." She sighed before putting the glum atmosphere to rest with a more chipper note. "So, what's the occasion, little brother?"

"Don't call me that…"

"Aw, but it's cute-"

Green rolled his eyes. "Whatever… How are things over there?"

"Wow, is the great Green Oak actually _worried_ about his sister?" Daisy broke out laughing, much to her brother's annoyance. "Kidding, kidding. It's been great here! Cerulean City, Cape and the surrounding routes have some of the most diverse ecosystems I've ever seen! They've got abra living among the other wild pokemon, and the abra survive even with their sleep schedules! Can you believe it? I've been observing this particular abra for the past week, and the other wild pokemon actually _protect_ it! Not only that, the wild oddish and bellsprout even–"

"That's very nice," Green cut her off before she rambled too long, "But it's not quite why I called."

Daisy raised her brow. "Oh? Did something happen?"

"Yeah…"

Green went into great detail over the next minutes of sunrise, throwing the entire bulk of the news in well-phrased, formal English without so much as a stutter. While Red had decided to spend his time invading Blue's privacy despite her wish to be left alone, Green had opted to gather information. For the past two hours, he had been on the move collecting whatever he could on the facts of this alleyway attack, including some ghostly whispers about the vigilante and his whereabouts.

"Wow, that's some story. Almost unbelievable," Daisy said.

"Do you seriously think I'd joke on this matter?"

"Don't put words in my mouth. I'm just a little taken aback. All that happening in one night… are you alright?"

Green looked incredulously at her. "You're talking like I was the one who got attacked."

"I'm talking like someone who knows you," she corrected, "And make no mistake, Green, I _know_ you. Probably – no, definitely – better than your friends. I know an attack on Blue's family won't sit well with you; that's as good as an attack on _your_ family, and I _know_ what I'd do if someone threatened my family."

Green bit back a snarky retort when he saw the sincerity and concern in his sister's eyes. She had stopped tending to her sandshrew and diverted all focus on him.

"Mhm. That's what I thought," Daisy said, "So the question is, what are you going to do about it?"

Green was left to contemplate this under the sunlight's warm embrace, and Daisy smiled a silly grin when she saw a fire ignite within his eyes. The answer was obvious.

"… Thanks for the talk, sis."

The blonde smirked. "Go get 'em."

 **=====#=====**

 **F** locks of pidgey flew in an arrow formation over the hospital's rooftop, and Red looked up fascinated from the view he was taking in. The entire flock flapped away overhead, but even with their numbers, they coordinated the shape perfectly. He counted at least sixty birds.

"Hey, Blue, check this out! Look at them go!"

"You know I was born here, right? Dad used to take me to our terrace to watch them all the time when I was a kid." Blue sighed with her head still down. She was seated away from the edge, lost in thought. "Now he's in a hospital bed… thanks Viridian."

"Right, sorry…"

"Red," she looked up at him seriously. "You don't need to do this."

"Do what?" he raised a brow.

"This! This whole holding-yourself-back routine! The League's been your dream ever since–"

"–ever since we met back in first grade, I know. Take five, cut. You've trained me well for a Director's role at Pokestar Studios." Red rolled his eyes. "Didn't I say I'm okay with it?"

"But _I'm_ not! And this isn't a joke!" Now, she was on the verge of tears again. "I just… I don't want to be the one who stands in between you and your dream…"

Red pushed himself off the railing and approached her slowly. Squatting to her level, he raised her head by both cheeks. "Hey… Hey, look at me," he said, "I am _not_ leaving without you. It doesn't matter if I have to wait a day, a week, a month… or even years. That's _my_ choice, got it? Mine."

"B-But-"

"But nothing. It's not like you can force me to leave anyway," he chuckled.

Not once in his entire life had Red done anything he didn't want to. Right from his adoption of Poli at the tender age of three, his choice of friends at six, and even his choice to take on the Pokemon League at seven; everything had been as he wanted it to be, and no streetside mugging was going to break that streak.

He dried her tears before comically stroking his chin. "Now, what's it going to take to cheer you up?"

"You don't have to-"

"I know! Let's find the guy who saved your mom!"

Blue's face went from saddened to shocked. "What? Are you crazy? This city's huge!"

"Right? Red here has just the brightest ideas," a third voice cut in, turning both Red's and Blue's heads. At the terrace door stood none other than Green Oak himself, in all his vainglory. "What's up?"

"Green?" They said in unison.

"Careful. You two keep meeting in places like this, and people will talk."

"What do you want?" Blue asked, unamused.

"Relax, I'm just here to let both of you know that I'm about to head into the city. I haven't been here in a while, and since I won't be passing through on my journey anymore, I might as well get a feel for the place. You know, for my biography when I flatten this League."

Red frowned, rising from his squat. "You're leaving? Without Blue?"

"I didn't know Blue _wasn't_ leaving."

"Her Dad's in the hospital! Of course she's not!"

"Well that's hardly my problem now, is it?" Green scoffed. "Blue's a big girl; she doesn't need us to follow her around like a couple of star-struck social defects."

"I'm not a–"

"Enough!" Blue silenced them both, and let said silence sink into a linger. She then glared Red down. "I can speak for myself, thank you."

Green laughed. "See? Big girl right there."

"Shut up, Green. For once in your life, please…"

He glared at her, but allowed her to speak regardless.

"I'm happy you're taking the step. Really, I am." She said. "You're right, you don't need to wait for me, or ask my permission, or any of that, but I recall asking you to _leave me to myself_. Begs the question: What are you doing here?"

Green rolled his eyes. "Of course, sorry for third-wheeling. I only came to save you losers the time you would inevitably have wasted looking for me. For what it's worth, I hope your father recovers quick." He turned to leave, but then paused and looked Red dead in the eye. "Oh, and Red? Give up on the League."

Red's eyes widened. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I'll crush you if you get in my way." Green said calmly while waving his friends goodbye. "Smell ya."

Red could only watch in silence as Green walked straight out the door he came, and Blue breathed as though she had run in a marathon.

"What a complete jerk…" said Red, "Who does he think he is?"

Blue placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't let him get to you. I'm sure he doesn't mean that."

They both knew otherwise in their hearts. Neither Red nor Blue could pinpoint when their friend had changed like this, but ever since the three of them found out about the Pokemon League, Green Oak passionately proclaimed his rise to champion-hood every chance he got.

The wind that blew over them seemed distinctly colder now.

 **=====#=====**

 **J** ason yawned as the world came into focus. The Sun shone on both his eyes and Harold's. Beside him in the alley, the machop stretched itself out and vaulted to its feet, having finally caught the sunlight in between two large buildings. Its trainer rose from the cardboard they both slept on, ready to face the day… or they would have been.

"Is it morning already?" he groaned, rubbing his bagged eyes. Harold looked disapprovingly upon its half awake trainer and shook him conscious within seconds, drawing gargled gibberish that passed for protests from between his unbrushed teeth.

"I'm awake, I'm awake! Yeesh…"

Harold clicked its tongue, and Jason shook off his pokemon to size up his surroundings. The morning traffic had set in as it always did on Monday, with clerks and labourers alike rushing to work as cogs in the giant machine that couldn't stop giving: Viridian City.

"I hate daylight… think I could sleep in? Our op's not till tonight."

Harold grunted brusquely, because they needed their meals.

"Oh, right. Of course…"

Right as he turned to see what street food joints opened up beyond the alley, however, he came face to face with a young man not too much younger than him in a sleek black jacket and green pants. Green Oak slammed a groggy Jason against the wall.

Harold moved to support its trainer, but froze as a bright blue aura engulfed it and restrained all movement. An abra with menacingly glowing eyes escaped Green's shadow whilst easily holding the machop in place.

"What the-"

"Phineas Hall, thirty-seven." Green growled with his forearm against Jason's neck. "You beat him half to death five blocks down the main road. You remember this, punk?"

Jason struggled to find a reason to not knock this boy out. "And what if I do? What do you want with me?"

"Do. you. remember?"

"Yeah. He shanked a guy, and I saved his wife," Jason growled. "And kid, I am _this_ close to making you look like he does now… You've got a couple seconds before I get to work."

"Scary. Sigmund, do the honours."

Jason moved to strike Green, but the psychic aura engulfed him too, sending both him and his machop smashing front-first into the alley wall. The psychic power of Sigmund, even before it evolved into kadabra, was a formidable force. Green had trained it as such.

"Now, I'm about to lay some ground rules out, so listen well, yeah?"

"Go to hell… AGH–" Jason squirmed as Sigmund squashed him and his partner against the wall further.

"Rule one: You stay ten metres away from my friend and her family. I don't care who you think you've saved. Fail, and I'll know."

"I wasn't going to–"

"Rule two:" Green cut him off, "You lay low for the next week. No vigilantism anywhere _near_ the hospital."

"What the hell gives you the right to–"

"Rule three: Break _any_ of those two rules, and I break you. Capisce?"

Jason looked like he popped several veins. Every cell in his body boiled with an unbridled rage further augmented by the helplessness that clutched him in this groggy square-off with a psychic trainer. In the end, however, he relented and nodded.

The grip on him and his partner disappeared, and he moved like a pyroar to swing, but his closed fist caught nothing but air. Mumbling curses under his breath, he straightened his partner up and the two stood in an empty alleyway.

 **=====#=====**

 **D** aylight on the outside world did little to impede the ever-present ambience of the Anderson Club. The screams of poor Gary had long since simmered, and the partying lower class had trickled their way back in over the course of the morning. The rave continued like nothing had happened. Gary's very existence had been snuffed out.

Even rats knew what questions not to ask.

Cappoli lounged atop his throne, feeling up one of his attendants without a care in the world. It was a pleasure he treated himself to while his underlings cleaned up the charred mess left behind by his namesake pokemon. The evidence was being dealt with.

Amidst the booming music, the curtains behind the Unovan boss shifted, giving way to a posh looking man in a black blazer, bow tie and formal suit. His bald head nearly scraped the ceiling, and his broad shoulders looked like they could hold up the world itself. He looked down stoically at Cappoli, who greeted him with a haughty laugh.

"Ghila, old friend! Look at you rockin' my birthday present! Nice to see you!" He pushed his whore aside and rose to pat Ghila on his shoulder, a feat which required him to tiptoe. "I assume you come bearing good news?"

Ghila nodded. "Preparations are complete."

"Good show, good show. Care for a drink?"

"No thank you, sir. I've come to report a redeployment of our men."

"And why is that?" Cappoli frowned

"We're preparing for the Hood. I shall see to it that he does not compromise our operations any further past tonight."

Cappoli sighed as he walked over and slapped an attendant on her bottom. "Hmm… y'see, Ghila, people like this hood chap, they don't stop with your run-of-the-mill, wild west persuasion, no. They need a little more… incentive."

"It has been taken care of." Ghila smiled. "Saffron's barricading works well to our advantage. You have Fariq to thank for the information."

"The old dick?" Cappoli laughed out loud. "I knew his daughter was worth sparing."

"Indeed. He got us what we need."

Cappoli forced a moan out of his attendant when he slid a hand under her modest clothing. "Excellent… well then, I look forward to tonight, Ghila. Get the shipments ready; I want to be there in person for this."

"All due respect, Cappoli, sir, it would be in your best interest to prepare yourself for the upcoming meet," there was hesitation in the man's voice. "Whispers of Giovanni's emergence ring clearly through the underworld."

Cappoli drove a fist into his whore's gut, causing her to retch on her knees. "Ghila… don't _ever_ utter his name within these walls."

"Apologies, sir."

"Whatever… that coward hasn't been a priority for the past decade. He can wait." Cappoli scoffed. "I want to see that an example is made of this uppity little upstart." A chilling laugh escaped him. "Finish loading our shipments, Ghila; you're dismissed till the night."

Ghila nodded. "Very well, sir."

 **=====#=====**

 **C** ar after car whizzed past the main road before the Viridian Precinct, and a fuming Red stormed out of the doorway. Peeved and with Poliwhirl by his side; that was how the boy had spent his morning, all in the endeavour of an investigation.

"Agh! Why does literally no one want to talk?"

Poli shrugged; its trainer was well beyond the point of civil discussion and it knew.

"I mean, all I wanna know is who this hood-man is, but no! Those… those _blue boys_ seem only to care about their next donut break! For crying out loud, Poli, my friend's parents were attacked!"

An understanding nod came off the poliwhirl. It had grown accustomed to being a wordless wall for Red's squash ball thoughts.

"Whatever… Guess I should check on Blue, huh?" He sighed as he twirled his pokegear off its holster and pressed the power switch. The device was unresponsive. "I said… I should check on Blue." He pressed the power button again, but the device did not turn on. "What even- no… no, no, no, this isn't happening."

The morning had been truly unkind to Red. Every single person he'd asked about this hood vigilante had given him a colder shoulder than the last, the police had treated him as a joke, or worse, 'That stupid kid on TV the other day,' and now his pokegear was dead. Not discharged, but dead. Unresponsive. He felt like throwing it against a wall, and he would have if it didn't embody a year's worth of savings.

Poli watched pityingly as its trainer tried everything possible with the pokegear, but the device remained dead and unresponsive, as though it was never functional. As frustration rose, heads on the streets turned, but as was the case with all giant machines, the city moved on without a care.

With a groan, Red surveyed his surroundings. Every corner of every street looked identical to the last and next, and without his pokegear GPS, the poor boy was now within what was effectively the largest labyrinth he had ever set eyes on. Over him loomed the true girth of 'The Big City' – an otherwise romantic pipe dream of every boy from small towns like Pallet.

"Ugh… how'd we get ourselves here, buddy?" he asked Poli like it would have an answer. "I've got barely enough cash for a meal… The movies make research look so easy! How do those detective types even do this?"

 _I dunno, Red, maybe they're actually competent?_ He heard Green's sneer in his head.

"Shut up, Green!"

Red soon realised he had yelled at the passersby. With a hand over his mouth, he receded slowly into the precinct with his partner by his side.

The police treated him like less of a joke when he came in as a lost boy, although some of them still sniggered. One couldn't laugh at much in Viridian City, so they milked this chance. The desk sergeant, however, had been nice enough to not only give Red the time of the day, but even point him in the direction of the nearest gear repair shop to get his pokegear checked, albeit with snide snaps at every silly question. While Red didn't appreciate the moniker of _kiddo_ , he took what he could get at this point.

Soon, Red and Poli hit the trail. They took the woefully simple directions, swimming through litter and grime that flooded the entire network of alleyways uptown before they finally reached it.

 _Vastolos Techie_ , a local store. Red didn't know what he was expecting, but this only dropped his jaw.

To say the building was worn would be underselling it heavily. A myriad of cracks spread themselves thin across the dated concrete, and paint chipped off sections of the brickwork like infected skin. It was like the building had been wedged into the plot with how out of place it looked.

The faded sign read _V st lo Tec e_. It was crooked.

Red opened the door nervously, hoping the place wouldn't collapse, and the dim glow of a hanging 9V bulb greeted him. It flickered as he closed the door behind him, and the sound of tools jingling came from under the counter.

"Um… anyone here?"

"Uh-huh, just… gimme a sec… hold on."

The voice Red heard was young, male, and came from behind the counter. He raised a brow as Poli followed along. "You, uh, okay back there?"

"Yeah, yeah… only gotta… oh, oh shi-"

Red flinched as the jingling turned into a violent series of clangs and tools collapsed in on eachother. The poor mechanic's legs rose above the counter as the tools fell on him all at once. Red rushed to help alongside his poliwhirl, frantically pulling at the flailing feet to give air to the now muffled voice. With a heave and a ho, they pulled the young mechanic out from impending death by asphyxiation.

He wheezed for breath when they hauled him out, and his brown afro bounced back into shape. He held the size 6 wrench he had dug out from under screwdrivers, pliers and verniers victoriously.

"Seriously, man," Red panted, "Are you okay?"

The mechanic beamed at him with a face speckled visibly by grease despite his dark complexion. "I'm peachy! Do you _know_ how long I've been looking for this baby?"

"Uh, no."

"Six days! I even checked the underwear drawer! Hell, I thought Gar had taken it before instead of the live mag–" He stopped short and gulped. "Eh, not important."

Red simply looked at him with a most confused expression. "Right…"

"Where're my manners?" He conked himself on the head and took his place behind the counter, pushing Red back in front of it. With a ruffle of his hair and both hands on the table, the mechanic looked his customer in the eye. "Andre Vastolos, one and only techie, at your service. What can I do for you?"

A million questions zoomed past Red's mind, but Poli's elbow to his shin snapped manners back into him. "Oh, um, yeah, it's my pokegear." He held the device up. "Pretty sure something's broken inside. Dunno what, though…"

"Right-o, let me have a look."

Andre went to work on the machine. Red could only watch in awe as the mechanic took his gear apart piece by piece with skill, precision and speed unlike anything he had ever seen before. It was almost beautiful, despite the absolute mess the inside of the small building was.

Stuffy, musty and caked with dust, grease, and God knows what else, the interior design of _Vastolos Techie_ was nonexistent. There were wires hanging low from the ceiling, and sharp tools sprayed across the floor like debris from a camerupt's eruption.

"Mm…" Andre squinted at the battery terminal he held up. "That's your defect right there! Faulty connection. There's actually nothing wrong with the unit or the battery. I'll have this fixed within the hour."

"How much?"

"Twenty."

"Twenty pokedollars?" he asked hopefully.

"No, ya dingus. Twenty-thousand. My services ain't _that_ cheap!"

Red's expression fell. _There goes the meal…_ He drew all the money he had on him and passed it over. Blue would surely lend him some later, he thought. She was always on top of her finances.

"Great! I'll be working. Feel free to explore the shop," he said with a chuckle, "or, since there's basically nothing here, you could always come back later."

"Yeah, sure," Red smiled, "Thanks for helping out."

"S'all business. Don't worry about it."

Red took a gander around while Andre worked, but it was Poli that reminded him why they were in this mess in the first place. A well placed slap to the shin was required.

"Right, the investigation… geez, Poli, you can just say it next time."

Poli did not entertain that preposterous notion with any kind of response, and instead opted to cross its arms silently.

Andre asked, "What investigation? You some kinda P.I.?"

"What? Oh, no, no, we were just out and about trying to gather some info. There's whispers of a hooded vigilante," Red said. "You know anything?"

Andre froze. His face went white as a sheet, and he instantly put his tools down.

"Hey, you _do_ know something!"

That much was obvious, but Andre didn't let him ask another question. From underneath his counter, he ripped the tape off his handgun and drew it on poor Red. The trainer nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw the scrawny mechanic pull a gun on him.

Andre's arms quivered. "L-Listen, I've gone straight! Honest!" His voice elevated to a shriek. "You can't arrest me! I never joined them!"

"Relax there, buddy," Red said nervously, "I'm not a detective–"

Andre turned the safety off, and Red backed up three paces before being ordered to freeze. "Shaddup! You can't arrest me! Th-This shop… it's… it's all I got! Everything! I won't let you–"

"Hydro Pump!" yelled Red.

Poli, who had moved quietly under the counter, jetted poor Andre with a pressurised blast of water, blowing the mechanic onto his back. Its trainer leapt at the chance to kick the gun Andre dropped to the other side of the room. The poliwhirl now stood over the trembling techie menacingly.

Andre had begun sobbing now.

"Down, Poli," Red sighed, "He's not the enemy, even if he does know something."

The Pallet Trainer moved slowly and non-threateningly towards the mechanic, who only backed up further till his neck hit a wall. His teeth clattered. His knees knocked. Red had no idea how to convince him that they were not a threat, so he got to the point.

"Andre, listen to me," he squatted to meet Andre's eyes clearly, "I am not going to rob you, or arrest you, or separate you from your shop. I just need information."

"Wh-What kind of information?"

"About the vigilante. Anything you know. Please," Red pleaded, "I need to find him for a friend."

"Y-You promise you're not with the cops?"

Red shook his head.

"O-or the Bikerz?"

"What even is that?"

Andre said a prayer to his God, beseeching forgiveness for all sins. Red called his poliwhirl off, and it guardedly complied. A blast of ice beam froze the gun across the room and shattered it.

Red looked him more intensely in the eye. "Listen, my friend's father is in a coma, and her mother's beyond traumatised, but they're only alive because of this hooded guy. I need to know where to look for him."

"I… I don't know."

"What?"

"Honest! I never even talked to the guy! I only saw him once." Andre's eyes shut themselves tight under the pressure of the memory. "H-He's a monster! A complete psycho! Psychos like him find _you_ , not the other way around!"

"You've met him?"

"Only once… it was at an arms deal… with the Bikerz and Unovan mob…"

"You were at an arms deal?"

"I didn't take anything! Honest!" Andre squeaked, "That gun was my pappy's! The only thing he left me aside from this shop!"

Red let out a sigh. "Why were you at the arms deal?"

"I… I needed money, okay? I needed money, and one of my old classmates, Gar, he's in the Bikerz. They're a street gang that vandalise and take whatever they damn well please. He… he offered me a cut from their next raid if I joined." The man began to shed tears, before fully breaking down into a bawling fit. "I didn't know he'd be there! He beat Gar and the Unovans into a puddle of blood! He didn't stop- not even when they were down!"

Red flinched, but said nothing.

"Th-Then, he looked at me with those… those bloodshot eyes. The kind my pappy gave me when he caught me stealin' parts-" he sniffled, "I failed him! I failed my pappy! I almost joined a criminal gang, okay? I failed… I failed the entire family to save the shop…"

Hiccups escaped the quivering, crying mechanic, and Red rose with another sigh. Truthfully, the boy felt bad for Andre, even after he had pulled a gun on him. Hearing him whisper _I'm sorry_ over and over didn't help the compassionate trainer much in terms of staying on guard. He placed a gentle hand on Andre's shoulder.

"Hey, hey, you can stop crying now," he said, "Look, in the end, you made the right choice. You're clean as ever… well, in terms of a criminal record." He laughed. "You still need a shower. Badly."

"Y-You…" Andre sucked in snot.

"What about me?"

"You're… you're not gonna report me?" he asked pitifully, "I… I pointed a gun at you- you should-"

"Really?" Red smirked, looking over at the shards of ice melting slowly, "I don't see any guns."

Andre broke down again, but this time in tears of happiness as he hugged Red's feet like the boy was some sort of God.

"Hey- you-"

"I'll fix it!" he cried, "I'll fix everything! For free, and then… and then I'll do good by my pappy an' help you find this guy!"

While the news was wonderful, Red wasn't allowed to enjoy it in full without risking tripping over his new friend. Poli stood there and took the moment in. It appeared Red had finally made some progress.

 **=====#=====**

Under the half moon's glow, Jason's hooded figure crouched atop a beam hanging off one of the many cranes that surrounded the construction site. The next location, according to his intel, would be at Fuji Street two blocks down the road. There was no meaning to perching up on the beam, but as with all players of the long game, The Hood needed his pregame catharsis.

An annoyed grunt escaped Machop, which had squatted beside him. Why were they wasting time?

"It's not a waste, Harold," Jason said. "We owe every one of these scumbags a peek at their insides..."

With the breeze that carried his callous words came the thunderous roar of an engine. The very same roar Mr. Tetsuo had heard three days ago before the biker hoodlums trashed his shop and broke his arm. The very same roar that had been the prelude to Mr. Tanaka's funeral. The roar heard before the East Viridian Nursery had been robbed and harrassed.

It made Jason's blood boil.

"It's down da street there, Jackie," came the voice of one of the disembarking Bikerz. "Big deal. I heard rumours of da man Slugma himself comin' down."

"Radical! So what is this, a free for all arms display?" Jackie swooned as he stumbled in a drunken stupor. "Man, now I know mah boy Finny's got mah back! I want one o' dem fancy rail rifles, dude!"

This roar was different: a violent fit of laughter from both Bikerz as they boldly discussed the dissemination of deadly arms. The Hood's fury cast a shadow harrowing enough to chill the devil himself. Even Harold, who shared the sentiment, had to place a hand on its partner's shoulder to calm him down.

Jason stabilised himself with a breath.

Ominous silence undertoned the cheerful back and forth between the hoodlums: a prelude to the night's descent upon them. The Hood meted out retribution from an entire city of oppressed souls. Two bikers walking down the street stood little chance.

This was Viridian City, a lawless land.

The splatter of warm blood tinted the asphalt, leaving the city's last ounce of purity – the shimmering half moon – confined to the sky. It was a pauper's witness to the turning cogs.

For every blow rained down upon these scapegoats, a victim was born elsewhere. Terror oozed from the dark alleys, where mother and child stood frozen by fear, for they were but travellers on a path upon which they should not have been. The shadows sent men with ill intent, who came upon them with gleaming blades. There were no good samaritans here.

This was Viridian City, a silent slaughterhouse.

Little Molly staggered through her doorstep, dragging behind her a sack of junk that was to be the family's sustenance. Her father had other plans – resolve reflected in this pale pupils and foaming mouth – for as lonely as this decrepit residence was, her innocence would do fine in place of her findings.

This was Viridian City, a graveyard of screams.

Cappoli had congregated a force, by now, moving products through the network that squeezed the authorities like a damp and dusted rag. Trucks of arms and ammo weaved through the streets, bypassing the police cars with their sirens damned. Some lost the pursuit, others crashed in mutual destruction, but ultimately the police's counterattack failed. Desperate calls by the patrolmen echoed in their communications, but even those who heard could not act.

They _would not_ act.

Arms took the street by storm. The city played a symphony of gunfire, and by the time the moon reached its zenith, blood flowed to the sewers by the gallons.

This was Viridian City, a morgue to decency.

The Hood rose, and left his victims bloody on the asphalt. He made his way to a rooftop and found a Unovan splinter group kicking a man while a young boy watched. They had taped his eyes open. He sobbed without sound – for even at the top of his lungs, he knew nobody would hear him cry.

He was wrong.

 **X===== FIN =====X**

 **A/N: So I realise that this chapter had more setup than anything, but I found that necessary in sustaining any meaningful narrative, so apologies if I bored any of you. Next one's gonna be a lot more exciting; I guarantee it.**

 **In other news, I realise that updates are getting slower and slower, but that's mostly due to work and the like bodying me IRL. I am always open to a chat on discord if you'd like. My tag is Ace#4566.**


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